Fire with Fire
by malamuteblizzy
Summary: Sucked into a war where every turn seems to be a dead end, and every discovery about the past is more confusing than the last. The Region is a place divided into different Sectors, each housing groups of prodigies, or humans with paranormal powers. If your lucky enough to be out of Sector 17. Featuring Alec, Clary, Magnus,Simon, Isabelle and Jace. Dystopian please read and review.
1. Chapter 1

He sat on the edge of his bed, turning the tablet over in his hands. Inactivated, it resembled an empty frame, the corners sharp as he traced his thumbs over them. He knew if he didn't activate it soon, officials and officers would flood the room, and the questions would begin. He reluctantly flipped the switch on, and memories flooded his mind.

The memories weren't his own, but foreign, played like a film in his mind.

`Some of the images flooded his mind, crisp and clear, of a teenage boy. Sometimes the boy might be laughing, sometimes all Alec could see was darkness, and hear sounds of screaming. He felt the emotions rush through him, rage, sorrow determination,hate. He felt his hands clench into fists, beads of sweat now existent on his forehead. A wire had been hooked to his hands, which was now receiving images from Alec's mind, and reports of emotions he was experiencing.

They'd used him like this dozens of time before, countless times he'd sat in this room, wearing wires on his wrists. It had been this way since he was fourteen, and he'd been taken away on assignment day, perpetuated as a holiday.

It was the day all boys and girls aged fourteen were dragged from their homes, and the tests were performed, then placing every person into a category. He'd been placed in tech aid.

He'd developed this talent if you could even call it that. He was able to see and feel the emotions of those around him, which made him the go to guy for profile footage.

A small chip was implanted inside every living person, tracking their every move. The disks could record memories, and no one knew they had them.

Alec was an exception, being an tech aid. He had the ability to control and manipulate others, his strange unexplainable talent . He was called useful, for being able to track resistance members, or criminals.

It wasn't a home; it was a prison. All he'd been able to see was four walls, always the same steel gray color. Where ever Jace and Isabelle were, he thought they'd be thinking similarly.

He often wondered where his siblings had been placed. They both had special talents, he knew. Like his ability to read emotions, and to control technology. He longed to see the faces of his brother and sister, but it was strictly against the rules, and definitely classified.

More images flooded his mind, of weapons and dark places, of chaos .And the final image was a clear picture of the whole city burnt to the ground, the same boy laughing in the ashes.

So the boy was a resistance member.

That was all, know he knew, he knew of all the secrets of this boy, who most likely had no idea his secrets had all been revealed, that his lies would only dig him deeper in the hole.

It weighed him down, all the power he held in his hands. He was the only one able to read the tablets, part of his talents. He was the one who made the images appear on the screen, if given a basic essence and an identity. The tablet recorded the images, much like that of a flash drive, but ten thousand time more advanced.

If he didn't tell them, it would most likely be tortured out of him, and it was something that terrified him.

They would make him hallucinate, make him scream as they slowly drove him insane, using those wires, those awful red wires.

It had only been thirty seconds, and he was already staring into the eyes of another officer, who carefully took the tablet from Alec's hands, turning the switch on. Alec saw the images reflected in his eyes, what Alec had conjured up. A doctor came in shortly after, unhooking the dreadful wires.

Then he was alone again, trapped in these four walls.

* * *

Panting, Magnus turned another corner, jumping over a bin of oranges someone had knocked over. He leaned against the wall, clutching the precious file in his hands. This was the thing that was going to save his mother, this was going to work. He'd gone through quite a bit to get through the systems, and finally been granted access to the file. As the alarms blared, he ran clutching the file to his chest. It had been easier than he'd anticipated; but nowhere near a breeze.

He knew he was a wanted criminal now.

He knew it would only take so long for the officials to find him, then he be in the hands of the system.

He ran faster, throwing open the door to his mother's house. A cloth was pressed to her forehead by his sister. He only stopped for a second to utter the word here before the file was on the table, and he was out the door again. His sister and himself had already discussed what was going to happen next. She would look on the file, and find out how to cure their mother. Then she'd destroy the file like she'd been trained.

All the while he'd be running, as far as he could go from his mother, hoping to get caught miles from his home.

Hoping.

* * *

Clary exchanged a few words with Simon,under her breath so only he could have heard. The plan was the same, as it always was, every wednesday.

She'd joined the resistance last year, when she'd been transferred to the medical department. She was able to get in an hour of free time every Wednesday, only allowed to those like her in the medical field. She thought other departments had more free time, but it didn't matter anymore. But he didn't tell Lukkas any of that. What good would it do him to know the horrors that awaited?

Simon had been her neighbor in section 1, a neighborhood of the medical prodigy children. They'd been torn from their homes, and taken to this sterile building, wreaking of death and not enough air freshener.

She'd always been at the top of her class, had always had the eyes of the teachers trained on her, like they were waiting for her to do something. Like if she made one mistake, she'd be swept off her feet and taken to section 17.

Section seventeen was where what a government official might call useless people lived. She was taught in school it was a place wreaking of garbage and dirty laundry, where no one wanted to end up. but since she'd joined the resistance or the strike, the images that had been entrenched in her mind by the region had started to shift.

She gripped the clipboard tighter in her hands, turning down another hallway. She wore the same blue scrubs and white gloves as every doctor in the hospital base, but hidden in a pocket on the inside of her shirt was a small chip, containing vital information for the strikers. She'd been in this position for months, sneaking information from patient files. Bits and pieces of information were revealed on every chip, imported from the microchips of officers. She had been able to figure out how to get the files, and she had briefly wondered if this was how the tech genius's felt. It seemed like tech controlled everything, and she had even heard of those who could communicate through the microchips, but she suspected it was only a myth.

So for once in her life she'd felt in control, and that wasn't so bad right?

To the Region, it was a crime punishable by death. If they caught her carrying around the chip, she'd be arrested and dead within 48 hours.

She turned the clipboard in, and was approved to leave by her manager. If something on the clipboard wasn't completed, she'd be working 16 hour shifts for three weeks. She hurried out the doors, trying to keep her expression void of any emotion. When an officer looked her way, or waved to her, her heart would skip inside her chest, and she felt as if the security could hear her heart pounding.

But slowly and carefully, she made it.


	2. Chapter 2

Magnus was pulled back by the arm, and he heard the crack of his foot as it broke, and the world began to blur around him. He heard indistinct voices around him, and he felt as if he were trying to see through water.

_they got me_

_they got me_

They seemed to be the only words Magnus could still grasp.

Two men hauled Magnus to his feet, supporting him. Magnus couldn't make out their faces, and wasn't conscious long enough to wonder where they were taking him.

He woke to the sound of voices, gradually growing louder and more distinct. He blinked in the bright light, and saw a small girl, wearing the scrubs of a doctor. Great, they were going to fix him before they killed him. But surrounding her were not doctors, but mostly officers. He was not in a hospital.

He sat up, and realized he was laying on a hard wooden bench, not crafted by the society. He realized with a jolt he was surrounded by strikers! He was about to speak up, but then his head throbbed, instant and painful. He felt like his head was vibrating, a quiet hum buzzing inside his shook his head once, an attempt to clear it. Then all of a sudden it was gone, the throbbing disappearing altogether. He looked around, and saw several faces staring.

He didn't move, not sure of what he should do. If he jumped from this bed, and ran past the girl- wait what kind of security was this place rigged with?

He recognized looks of awe, shock, disbelief, jealousy and confusion. He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly impossibly dry.

"How did you manage to do it?" One officer asked him, speaking with confidence and force.

"Um, what exactly?" Magnus asked, still paralyzed with shock.

A annoyed look passed over the officer's face.

"Steal the file?" The officer clarified.

Steal the file.

Slowly the words sunk in, and memories flooded Magnus, of disabling the security, hacking into the system file, and getting the precious medical remembered the sad expression of his sister, the sheen of sweat on his mother's forehead. So they knew he'd stolen the file. Why did they want to know, why did they care? He hoped his sister had done as he asked, and destroyed the file, which should now be untraceable.

""I don't know." He answered, earning him a glare from the officer.

"So you just tiptoed into the building, took the file and ran away?" He asked, his eyes trained of Magnus. Magnus fidgeted under his gaze.

"I just disabled the security, got access to the files, selected the correct one with the information I needed, and got out of there a few moments before the security would be armed again." Magnus explained, keeping the story as short as he possibly could. The officer eyed him skeptically.

"You did all that?" He asked. Magnus could only nod.

"Are you a tech?" He asked.

A tech.

Bitter laughter escaped his lips, looking at the officer incredulously.

If he was a tech, things would be thousands of times easier, life would practically be a breeze. He would get access to the files he wanted, he would be trusted be the region, he'd be granted legal free time. He had learned to despise tech, officers, and medical and manufacturing aid. He was a loner, living with his family in section 17, most of the rest of the region unknown to him. His mother hadn't possessed a talent he knew of, and she had been moved to sector 17. His sister and himself were both not allowed to take the test, and weren't taken away on assignment day. They stayed with his mother, and had watched her health slowly deteriorating. He knew she would die, if he did not steal the file. He'd risked everything for his mother, for her life in sector 17. He had never heard her utter a word of complaint in her life. She acted as if she liked life in sector 17.

He'd worked in the field, farming for the region since he was nine, and didn't know any other reality. If he had had a different mother, he might be a tech, but he wouldn't trade his family for anything.

So the question was ridiculous to him.

A tech.

"So no?" The officer inquired.

"Your looking at a resident of sector 17." Magnus said. The officer stared back at him in shock. Magnus wished he was able to take a photo of the look on his face. He'd never seen an officer that taken off guard.

"how?" He muttered. Magnus, oddly was flattered.

He shrugged.

"Well, anyway, what's your name?" He asked.

"Magnus Bane." He answered.

* * *

Jace completed another series of drills, more practice.

It was all he did nowadays, practice.

He was considered one of the best, a prodigy. When assignment day had come, He'd be taken to a train packed full of kids his age. He had been told he'd aced his test, and the special talent he possessed was in combat. Every member of the region supposedly had a gift, even if it seemed out of the ordinary, or paranormal. He'd once met a man with the ability to set himself on fire, at will. He was glad he possessed the gift that he did, instead of something weird like that. To this day he still wasn't sure why most had these talents. It didn't matter, they couldn't really change it.

He also remained undefeated, and he was part of the underground fighting games, also referred to as the UG (underground games). He'd won 100000 dollars so far, in the past three months he'd been doing them. The fights were most definitely illegal, and would get him arrested.

If someone would ask Jace why he did the fights, he would say he craved the adrenaline, and was restless all the time. He didn't particularly care for his own well being, and didn't know anyone to mourn him if he died.

Oh, there wasn't a single day Jace didn't think about Alec,Max and Isabelle. He often wondered where they ended up. He'd always assumed they'd be in the medical field, and had been somewhat surprised to find out Alec had not made it into combat training as he had. Maybe he had other talents Jace didn't know about.

He hung up his white towel, now damp with his sweat. He was done for the day, his clipboard having been filled out hours previously.

So now, it was time for him to go to the fights.

He craved the high of battle, when all thoughts of his family and what he left behind were drowned out, and his only thoughts were the next punch he would throw, and how he could knock his opponent off his feet.

Stuffing his hands deeper in his pockets, he moved down the streets, coming to a stop near the entrance to the brawl quarter. It's where the fights were held.

Among the melee of people milling about down underground, was a small area reserved for the fighters. Some placed bets, others watched or cheered. He felt the adrenaline coursing through his veins, like fire. People moved as he walked past, letting him step into the circle, and into the fight. His opponent was waiting for him, his fists curled at his sides, his expression hungry.

The inundation of people seemed to crowd around them, their gazes trained on himself and the other boy. He saw a woman waving her money around, running to place a bet. The voices grew more and more distant, as the high of the battle consumed him.

He threw the first punch.

* * *

Isabelle was still learning; things were getting easier.

The only thing she'd broken that day was a vase, small compared to her other incidents. She wore gloves now, as they had been proved to help mute her ability somewhat.

She'd possibly gotten the worst ability anyone could ask for.

She could break things, destroy then, will them to shatter with her mind, and right now she broke things as her mood changed. She often thought of it as a curse, certainly not a gift. But the region insisted she was a valuable resource, especially when it came to war.

War, the region loved to get involved in. She could name seven countries they were at war with, and quite a bit of war was raging within the country itself. Sighing, she leaned back in her chair, looking out into the city. The window spanned the length of the room, something that made her feel peaceful, calm. She'd trained for twelve hours, working on taming her wild power. The goal had remained not reached, a vase shattered instead of the fish bowl they wanted her to smash. Her ability was hard to control, and they were training her to focus her ability, and to destroy things she wanted to.

She often wondered what it would be like to have a different talent, and had longed to be anything but this. But she couldn't change it, she guessed.

Looking out the window, she saw a small explosion in the distance, red fire and black smoke billowing from a building far away. She knew instantly this was bad, and the city was likely to be chaos in a matter of minutes. She was going to be ushered off to an underground cellar.

She barely had time to turn, before the alarms were blaring.

* * *

Alec was a hundred feet from his sector, when he was flown backward, his ears ringing, the echo of the loud boom still fresh in his mind. He landed with a crunch, pain exploding down his arm. The smell of burning hit his nose, and fire blinded him, bright lights slowly fading into darkness. He was conscious of shrill screams,and the thrumming of footsteps, the loud bang of gunfire.

But Alec couldn't move, he felt as if he were paralyzed, and he could no longer move his body.

He tried lifting his head, and what he saw horrified him.

He saw debris scattered a few hundred feet away, the bodies of familiar tech surrounding him. He choked, and felt a dribble of blood down his chin. His bottom lip had been cut badly, he realized, as he bit down on it. He wanted to scream, but his lips would not move.

Instead, darkness swallowed him.

* * *

Magnus had been processing the words, when he'd heard the boom indicating the bomb had gone off.

"Were bombing the tech." The officer had said, each of his words a weight on Magnus's chest.

"How many are you killing?" He whispered, in shock, horror and disbelief.

"Most of tech. Were sending in officers to survey the damage, and gather the remaining tech for questioning, and also use for our own purposes." The officer explained.

"Why?"Magnus said on and exhale of breath.

"The tech are a valuable resource, people the region would not do well without. We are the resistance, doing what's best to end Valentine's rein. We will gather the survivors." He said, with sincerity.

"Won't the Region figure out who did it?" Magnus asked.

"No, we've covered our tracks well, and the Region suspects it was the AAT's who bombed tech." The officer continued, looking proud of himself.

He felt was horror, washing over him like a wave.


End file.
